A Rawhide Story-A Friend for Mushy Part 5
by Katie Zakrzewski
Summary: As Christmas time draws near, more is revealed about Cinnamon's past


It was cold outside. I gentle rubbed my sore shoulder and sat by the fire.  
Wishbone had just changed the bandages and said I was lucky my arm didn't have  
to be amputated.  
It was a few weeks before Christmas and the boys seemed excited about a week's  
vacation, and all of them talked about what they would be doing back home.  
I guess it seemed odd that I was kid and hadn't chimed in excitedly.  
"What're you gonna do for Christmas, Cinnamon?" Mushy asked.  
Talk around the fire got quiet as everyone waited for me to answer. I didn't  
look at any of the prying eyes as I said, "Nothing."  
"What do you mean nothing?" Mushy asked. "Don't you have some family you could  
go home too?"  
"My folks died three years ago," I said softly.  
Everything got quiet.  
"I'm sorry," Mushy said. "I didn't know. I should have kept quiet."  
"It's alright." I said. "It doesn't hurt so much anymore. But thanks for  
wondering about me."  
There was a long uncomfortable pause, only interrupted by the crackling fire,  
and I knew the curious question on everyone's mind. No one had to ask, so I  
explained anyway.  
"Three years ago, my parents and two little brothers came down with yellow  
fever. For some reason, I didn't. So I stayed with them and took care of them.  
One by one they died in my arms. And there wasn't a thing under God's blue sky I  
could do about it," I said.  
"So I buried them one by one, back home in Arkansas. Over the years, some have  
said I was lucky, that living was my gift. But sometimes," I said with a sigh.  
"It's my curse. I lost everything, and had to start all over again. But thanks  
to Mr. Favor," I said with a smile, gently raising my coffee cup. "It hasn't  
been that bad of a start."  
He gently smiled, and the boys didn't talk anymore about big family plans.  
I quietly got up and went to the tree just on the outskirts of our camp, that  
I usually went to to sit and think.  
"I didn't mean to upset you back there," Mushy said, sitting down beside me.  
"I'm alright," I said. "I had to talk about it."  
"Yeah, but I don't like to see you upset," he said, awkwardly scooting closer  
to me.  
"What're you gonna do for Christmas, Mushy?" I asked.  
His face brightened, and he began to explain. "I'm gonna visit my mother. We'll  
have a nice little party, just family, and all. And I guess I'll help her around  
the house for the week, rest up, and come back."  
"That sounds like fun," I said.  
Mushy sat for a long moment. "Wanna come with me?"  
"I don't know," I started. "Mr. Favor may need someone to help him watch the  
cows."  
"Well," Mushy said. "If you're not busy, you might as well come."  
I smiled. "I'll think about it."

I would never fall asleep on night watch again.  
Wishbone had told me it would be a few minutes before he brewed another batch of  
coffee, and I had gone back to my post at the tree, and I must have accidentally  
fallen asleep, because the most dreaded word here on the drive was being  
screamed.  
"Stampede!"  
I had been here for a few months, and during my career as a drover, I had never  
witnessed or had to deal with a stampede, but Mr. Favor told me they were  
horrible.  
I stumbled and jumped up. I ran to the camp, and jumped on my horse  
Butterscotch, bare back.  
I rode to the mouth of the area to find the cows running up the valley towards  
me. Despite my late start, I was the first one here. I didn't use experience; I  
used common sense.  
I raised my pistol in the air and fired one shot, two. It slowed the cows down  
and some in the back had even started turning around. Another shot. Then two  
more. Although I was making a big difference, the gap separating the two of us  
began to close. I hopped off my horse and slapped her hide and watched her ride  
back to camp. If this ended badly, I didn't want her to die with me.  
I had one bullet left. One bullet to turn this whole thing around, and save my  
friends. To save the day. To save myself. I pulled back the hammer.  
With a shaky hand, I fired.  
And that's all I remember.

I woke up again on my bedroll. Could it have all been a dream? I knew it wasn't  
when I woke up, feeling sore.  
I kept my eyes shut and listened to the conversation.  
"I can't believe she did it."  
"I can't believe she's alive."  
"She's pretty lucky. Just a couple cuts and bruises. It's like she can't be  
killed."  
"I know someone who's gonna get a raise."  
I must have fallen asleep again. I sat up, and it felt colder than the night  
before. I looked down on my blanket. Snow?  
Mr. Favor smiled at the confused look on my face. "What's the matter?" he said.  
"You never seen snow before?"  
"I come from Arkansas. Doesn't snow much there."  
He laughed.  
"You turned that whole herd around with six bullets," he said. "And of course,  
Mushy came up right behind ya and fired a couple shots too. When the herd got  
too close, you shoved him out of the way. You disappeared into the herd, and  
Mushy fired the last few shots and turned the rest around. He helped you back to  
camp. You've got a couple scrapes and bruises, but I think you're gonna be  
alright. You saved all of us," he said, crouching next to me.  
I smiled. "How's Mushy?"  
"Mushy's fine," Mr. Favor said with a laugh. "Although he would've been a  
flapjack if you didn't shove him outta the way."  
Wishbone and Mushy came over.  
"Hey Cinnamon," Mushy said, handing me a cup of coffee. "How ya feeling?"  
"Better," I replied, swishing the coffee around in my mouth.  
"You got lucky," Wishbone said.  
"I better get back to the boys. Everything's alright thanks to you two," Mr.  
Favor said, looking at me and Mushy and getting up and walking back to the herd.  
"You`re gonna be just fine," Wishbone said, with a comforting smile, one I  
didn`t see much. "Now, if you excuse me," he said, "The boys won`t be fine if I  
don`t get some food in em." He got up and went over to his wagon.  
"I was afraid I lost ya back there," Mushy said, a little shaken. "It would be a  
shame to lose my greatest friend in the world like that. I wouldn't be able to  
live with myself."  
"I'll be alright Mushy," I said.  
"But what if you weren't?" he asked innocently.  
"Then I guess you'd be out of a friend," I said with a smile.  
"My only friend," he said softly.  
Gently, I put a hand on his shoulder. His big blue eyes looked up into mine. I  
smiled, and I might just have said something, when we heard a bellow.  
"Mushy!" we heard.  
"Y-yes Mr. Wishbone?" Mushy asked, turning around to face Wishbone.  
"You're not paid to talk! Now come back here and help me with these barrels!"  
Mushy smiled. "I'll be back."  
I stopped him, right before he went over to the wagon, and Wishbone looked up  
to see what the delay was.  
"Mushy?" I softly called.  
"Yeah?" he turned back around to face me.  
"Did you mean what you said back there?" I asked.  
He tilted his head to the side, and his eyebrows furrowed, that look he had when  
he was thinking.  
"What?"  
I could see that Wishbone was growing impatient.  
And I asked the very same question that Mushy had asked me.  
"That you love me."  
Wishbone looked a little surprised. Mushy did too. But after a second Mushy  
smiled and said, "Yes. Very much."  
And he walked off.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Thanks to all my family and friends.  
Watch for Part 6 coming soon!


End file.
